


It's Alright, It's Okay

by AshesInTheCloset



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Marine Corps, Possible smut, This is just a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:14:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26839540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesInTheCloset/pseuds/AshesInTheCloset
Summary: Ronnie "Sketch" Nguyen is your average Vietnamese American who somehow got stuck with a bunch of rowdy devil dogs. In the middle of all this chaos Ronnie is torn on choosing between life or death, normal or abnormal, savior or killer. Trying to keep their compassion and humanity all while playing their part in this fight, will one over take the other?DISCLAIMER: This is only based off of the HBO miniseries and NOT THE REAL EVENTS AND MEN.WARNING: contains graphic depictions of violence, gore, mentions of suicide and self harm, racism, homophobia, sexism, and mentions of rape. Reader discretion advised
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Nate Fick, Brad Colbert/Nate Fick/Original Female Character, Brad Colbert/Original Female Character, Nate Fick/Original Female Character, Ray Person/Original Female Character(s), Walt Hasser/Original Female Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue: Insecurities

**Kuwait, 2003**

"Sketch!" a man called out, "Watch where you fucking shoot that thing, fucking liberal!" He shook his head as he tightened his grip on his 50.

"R-right!" A timid voice replied, "S-sorry, Garza!" E-2 Ronnie Nguyen, private first class, stood on the roof of a humvee. Manning the 50 cal gun attached to the vehicle. How the hell did they end up in the fucking marine corps? They never intended on joining the corps, they wanted to be in the army! From the inside of the humvee radio static and garbled voices could be heard.

_All Hitman 2 Victors, maintain speed, maintain dispersion, 50 meters._

Ronnie bounced and wobbled about on the roof of the vehicle, they could hear the faint chuckles and sneers of their fellow marines in the vehicle, their cheeks flushed red with embarrassment as they tightened their grip on the 50 cal and lowered their head.

_Hitman! This is Hitman 2.1, enemy contact! 4 T55s, one o'clock, 2 kliks, how copy?_

"Better hit your target, Sketch!" a man yelled from inside the vehicle, "If not, we're gonna leave ya!" he chuckled. Ronnie cursed under their breath and adjusted their helmet before maneuvering their 50 to the target. The 19 year old sucked in a breath and bit their bottom lip before firing about 5 bullets, 3 missed while 2 hit the preferred target, Ronnie quietly cheered as the sounds of an aircraft hovering above droned over. 

"Wooh!" a marine could be heard yelling, "Get some!" a missile was launched at the targets, leaving a large cloud of dust and smoke in its wake. Ronnie sighed in relief, training was over, they were just getting settled in their calm when one of the humvees careened off from the others. 

_Hitman 2.1 Bravo, what's your status? Over?!_

"He's stopping!"

_Bravo 2.1, we got a man down!_

"Lilley's hit!"

_2.1 Bravo, this is 2.1 Alpha. Interrogative?_

_Push, push, push! Get out of the kill zone!_

All of the humvees sped out of the kill zone, everyone keeping an eye on the still vehicle, once they were all clear they stopped around 2.1 Bravo. Marines hopping out of their vehicles to check on the casualty. A corpsman was called for as everyone scrambled about hysterically, Ronnie tried their best to get to the center of the commotion but they were pushed and shoved left and right like a pinball by other, bigger, marines. In the middle of all this sudden movement from left to right, Ronnie's helmet slid off their head and hit the ground. They stopped briefly to snatch it back up, gripping it tightly and continuing to make their way over to the others.

"Don't waste your morphine doc," Sgt. Espera muttered, "My boy's been smoked." the corpsman just blinked at the sergeant before attending to the wounded in front of him.

"Anybody else hit?" someone asked.

Garza could be seen walking towards the seemingly 'dead' Lilley, the man fixing his glasses before speaking, "How's it feel, motherfucker?" Garza teased, "How's it feel to be fucking dead?"

"Bro, it feels sad," Lilley responded, "I feel very alone, and also... I gotta take a shit." he sat back up with a smile. Everyone chuckled and joked around with him, someone claiming that they had dibs on Lilley's video camera when he died, all of this would sound horrid and terrible to a regular person. Thankfully, these weren't regular people, these were marines. Hell, even the most liberal of marines- Ronnie- was giggling.

"Lilley!" a man weaved his way to the side of the humvee, "You make a nice combat casualty, congrats." Lieutenant Fick grinned at the man in approval, everyone praised Lilley for his _somewhat_ decent acting. A marine gently nudged Ronnie to get their attention, gesturing that the two of them hang out after the LT was done speaking.

"Team leaders!" Fick hollered, "Let's do a little after action report." And with that, everyone went their separate ways. As the crowd cleared, Ronnie realized that they were all alone. The poor idiot couldn't even find the marine that was gonna hang out with them, anxiety and dread began to wash over Ronnie as more and more left, looks like they were by themselves again. Ronnie lowered their head in disappointment, turned on their heels, and started to shuffle off to their "spot" that they always hid in...

"Ronnie!" A voice called out, Ronnie's head shot up quickly at the sound of their name, "Ronnie, over here kid!" A marine, Rudy, was waving them over. At that very moment, Ronnie's anxiety and dread faded and was replaced by a small grin. The little marine quickly made their way over to Rudy.

"Hey there kid," Rudy smiled and ruffled Ronnie's hair, "Thought we lost you!" Ronnie shot Rudy a look of confusion, _we_?

"Hiya, Sketch." A man poked his head over Rudy's shoulder.

"Uh... hi...?" Ronnie sheepishly replied.

"Ronnie," Rudy smiled, "You remember Pappy, don't you?" Ronnie furrowed their brows in concentration, the other man's face did seem familiar- but then again, there were too many names and faces to remember.

"I was the one who shielded you when you had to fix your bra." Pappy mentioned, "Ya know, so the boys didn't ogle you?"

"Oh," Ronnie peeped in realization, "Yeah, I remember you. Thank you again for-"

"Don't mention it, sweetheart, you're one of us. Remember?" Ronnie nodded politely as the memory flooded back to her mind.

_**6 months ago, Camp Mathilda** _

_Ronnie was helping_ _carrying_ _boxes to somewhere, she was fairly new to the platoon and she knew little to no one in it. Other than Rudy, Godfather and Fick. Everyone else just assumed, because she had short hair, that she was a boy, a quiet, timid and weak boy who somehow made it into the corps. Ronnie decided_ _to_ _keep it that way, she didn't care_ _if_ _she was seen as a boy or a girl, afterall she_ _was_ _just another marine._

_"Thank you for helping, Nguyen," Godfather acknowledged her assistance, "How many more boxes?"_

_"About 5 left, sir." Ronnie answered calmly, "Is there anything you want me to take care of after?" Godfather pondered for a minute before shaking his head, Ronnie nodded and headed right back to the boxes._

_Thinking she could carry all 5 of them herself, Ronnie stacked the boxes on top of each other and lifted from the bottom. This was indeed a bad idea, yet the girl_ _was_ _too stubborn to realize. The boxes wobbled this way and that, the_ _girl_ _could hear the taunts of the other marines, "Aw, look at the little baby!" A marine exclaimed, "Be careful little boy, or you might hurt yourself!" The marine laughed as Ronnie struggled helplessly, it was then she realized that she bit off more than she could chew._

_Ronnie's view was obscured by the boxes, she wasn't aware_ _of_ _the rock in front of her, she lost her footing and tripped. All the boxes flew out of her arms and into_ _the_ _air, Ronnie landed face_ _first_ _in the sand. Sputtering and trying_ _to_ _assess what had just happened, she heard the laughter and_ _mockery_ _from the other marines._

_"Let me help you there, son," a shadow loomed over her, "You alright?" Ronnie glanced up to see who was speaking to her, only to see a mustached man holding his hand out._

_"I'm fine," Ronnie ignored his hand, stumbling up on her own, "Thanks." She began to pick up all the boxes only to be accompanied by the man._

_"Name's Pappy," the man introduced himself as he took three boxes from Ronnie._

_"Ronnie." The girl replied flatly as she_ _picked_ _up two boxes "Thank you, but_ _I_ _don't need any help-" she stopped in her tracks mid sentence, her eyes widened in shock as she quickly dropped her boxes. "Shit!" She muttered under her breath._

_"Everything okay, son?" Pappy asked. By now Ronnie was on edge, looking around for a place to hide, "What's wrong? See a ghost or something?"_

_"Hide me!" Ronnie pleaded desperately, Pappy was both shocked and confused. "Dammit, do I have to say it in Viet? Hide. Me."_

_"Why...?" Pappy raised an eyebrow curiously._

_"Fuck it." Ronnie groaned and turned around so that her back was facing Pappy and the marines. She started to pull her shirt off, the other marines jeering and pointing in response, Pappy grew more and_ _more_ _confused until he saw it._

_A white bra popped out from all the bland colors, Ronnie glared at Pappy before tossing her shirt to the ground, all the marines went silent- some even whistling at the sight_ _of_ _a bra. Pappy snapped out of his confusion and quickly placed himself between Ronnie and the other marines. "The fuck you pussies_ _staring_ _at?" He snapped, "Go back to your jobs."_

*********

"Ronnie?" Rudy's voice yanked Ronnie back to the present, "You listening to me?"

"Huh?" Ronnie replied cluelessly.


	2. Chapter 1: Get Some Crazy

Ronnie sat in the back of the tent at Camp Mathilda, everyone was either wrestling each other, chatting about sex and life back in the states, mentioning vulgar topics and making vulgar comments on women's bodies. Ronnie grimaced at hearing such comments from her corner of the tent, the girl was sitting with her legs crossed and a little notebook resting in her lap. The pages were littered with little doodles and sketches all ranging from small flowers, birds, eyes, skulls, candy, music notes, anything small enough to fit on the page. She was thinking of what to draw next when a man walked in looking for a _Ray Person_. 

Ronnie knew Person, not very well but enough to know that he exists, in fact the dumbass was standing a yard away from her and chatting with some other men about one guy's sexual encounters involving a chick and a vibrating egg in his ass...

"Hey, Ray," the man gets Ray's attention, "You hear the word man? J-Lo's dead." Ray and his group went silent for a second.

"Bullshit!" Ray hissed in disbelief. Little did this group of men know that they had an invisible and silent audience of one, Ronnie.

"Yeah, I got the word from a captain of G 2." Ray blinked, dumbfounded and confused at the man's reply, before shifting his attention to a blonde man who sat fiddling with something on the other side of the tent.

"Brad!" Ray shouted to him, "You hear about J-Lo?"

"Get over here, Ray!" the blonde, Brad, shouted back with a parental like tone, "I need my RTO." Brad glanced up from what he was doing only to lock eyes with Ronnie. The two of them stared at each other for a good 2 seconds- to Ronnie it felt like 2 hours- Brad seemed calm and collected, no wonder why his nickname is "Iceman." Ronnie, although calm on the outside, was screaming on the inside. Her heart rate sped up, anxiety and and awkwardness clouded her mind.

"Brad," the sound of Ray's voice snapped the two of them back to reality, Brad broke his focus from the girl and diverted it to Ray who was now standing next to him, "What were you staring at? A ghost or something?" when Ronnie heard this she quickly turned her gaze back to her notebook in embarrassment. Brad took another glance in her direction, catching her sudden movement, before grinning subtly.

"Nothing," Brad responded as he looked back up to Ray, "Nothing at all..."

"Bravo 2!" the whole tent went silent and everyone shifted their attention to LT. Fick who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, "All of you, listen up!" everyone did as told, like obedient school children, listening to their lieutenant explaining how two of Bravo's fellow Companies- H and S Company- had a negligent discharge that day. 

"Fuckin' supply company POGS." could faintly be heard.

"...So the CO _personally_ wants to make sure we brass check our weapons." The lieutenant finished spreading the news to his men.

"Anybody hurt?" Pappy asked, concern plastered on his face.

"No," Fick replied casually, "It was a 203. It's a miracle no one was killed." Pappy silently sighed in relief.

"That would suck, Homes," Ray blurted, all eyes turned to him, "Getting killed before you got to go to war and kill people." he smirked with a nod. 

"Shut up Person." someone groaned. 

Ronnie glared at Ray with disgust and anger, how could he be so rude in a situation like this? Yes, they were marines that were about to be sent to combat, but he didn't have to blurt it out like _that._ Ronnie's angry glare seemed like it could cause one's skin to feel as if it were being pricked by a needle if they were to ever fall into such a glare, and to her surprise, Ray seemed to have felt something pricking his neck. He scratched at his neck before turning his head in the direction the feeling came from, low and behold, he was met with a cold and unfriendly stare from his fellow marine.

"And uh," Fick continued, "Try wrapping up the chest training before lights out. I got the sergeant major on my ass." the other marines groaned in response. Ray was still focused on Ronnie, who seemed to be too upset to quickly and shyly look away, curious as to why she looked so pissed. Either way, the only thing he could think of doing at the moment was flash a goofy grin before getting up and heading over to the lieutenant.

"Lieutenant," Ray grabbed Fick's attention before he left, "Have you gotten any word on-" before Ray could even finish he sentence, the lieutenant butted in.

"I only get what's passed on to me from Godfather and the only word he gets is from BBC." Everyone was silent yet again, "If we're lucky, Saddam will back down and let the inspectors in and we can go home." Fick's gaze landed on Ronnie, noticing that she was upset and making a mental note to talk to her after.

"The important thing is," he continued, "We're doing our jobs by being here. All of you should be proud." He spoke the last bit in Ronnie's direction, hoping it would maybe remind her why they were there in the first place and to remind her that they had a job to do.

"Sir," Ray sheepishly looked towards the ground, "That's not the word I was asking about. I was- w-we wanted to know if you knew anything about J-Lo being killed." Fick furrowed his brows upon hearing this, in the back he could faintly pick up other marines whispering amongst themselves.

"Shit." came from one end of the tent.

"Who killed her?" came from another.

"You know she's my cousin, right?"

"She's Puerto Rican, you're Mexican."

Fick pursed his lips before glancing at Ray. "Ray, the battalion commander offered no sit rep as to J-Lo's status." Ray pursed his lips in response, hoping that the lieutenant knew _anything_ about J-Lo's status but he only received an awkward frown before Fick left the tent, leaving Ray disheartened and in need of answers. That is, until Garza made his way over to the sad and confused man.

"What?" He began to pry, "J-Lo's dead?" Ray shrugged in response, he didn't seem to know either.

"Apparently," Ray couldn't tell if Fick was keeping the truth from them or he just genuinely didn't know, "That's the word."

Ronnie felt bad inside after hearing about J-Lo, she felt bad whenever she heard something about a fellow marine getting seriously injured or killed- but this feeling hit harder, not because Ronnie didn't know if J-Lo was dead or alive but because _she was a woman._ None of the other men seemed to be too concerned with the J-Lo situation, possibly because they all believed that she either ran off and quit or she was indeed killed because she was weak. For all they know, she could've been captured, raped and tortured. Ronnie gulped silently as she felt her heart sink, her notebook slid off her lap as she clutched at her chest. _It could've been me._

A shrill whistle startled the poor girl, causing her to jump in her seat, "chết mẹ!" she cursed under her breath.

"Want some tea, Ronnie?" Rudy politely asked as he took his espresso maker off the stove and poured a cup of tea. Ronnie glanced over in his direction only to gasp and look away quickly, her cheeks flushed red, "I'm gonna take that as a no?"

"Rudy," Ronnie groaned as she rubbed her temple, "Where the fuck are your clothes...?"

"What?" Rudy chuckled after taking a sip of his tea, "You jealous?" the man laughed, unaware of the judgemental eyes that had been peering at him for a while. The owner of the eyes looked away in disgust.

"Since when did the marine corps start letting in f....?" Ronnie's head quickly turned in the direction the question came from. _Trombley... Of course..._ He was her glare's next unknowing victim... The marine sitting next to Trombley stayed quiet, shook his head in response, it was clear that he didn't want to have this conversation. Soon Trombley felt a mysterious prick on the back of his neck but ignored it, even after a minute he still ignored it.

"What do you think?" Espera lectured Lilley on the other side of the tent, "CNN's gonna want your version of the war?"

"Maybe." Lilley shrugged in response. Espera suggested that it would probably be better if Lilley filmed Rudy, fixing his gaze on the naked man across the tent as Lilley steered his camera to focus on Rudy's ass. It's surprising how much people would pay just for a sex tape, even more surprising the amount of people that would buy a gay porno. Lilley started to see where Espera was going with this...

"All you gotta do is get Rudy on board," Espera, although he sounded serious, teased, "And you'll be the next Spielberg of twink movies." Lilley chuckled in response, his camera never leaving Rudy who was now _somewhat_ decent.

Ronnie watched attentively as her friend picked up a few small stones from the pile of stones he collected- apparently chunks of broken cement walls counted as stones- and placed them in his vest. This was something Rudy would always do, place stones in his vest and strap on his gas mask along with checking his weapon before he got ready to run a few laps around camp. He noticed his small and quiet friend observing him and smiled, "Wanna run with me, Sketch?" he asked.

"I'd love to," Ronnie beamed, "But, you know how I am. Plus, after today, I'm exhausted!" she stretched her arms above her head and leaned back to fall on her bag, her elbows let out a satisfying _pop_ as she hummed in content.

"Alright then." Rudy shrugged before running off.


End file.
